Hello, Reddit.
My name's Lys, and I'm a 30 year old from the UK. Nice to meet you!
Weight has always been 'a thing' for me. My obsession first started when I was 10, which was when I first started realising I was a little chubbier than my peers - not massively fat, just chunky. I asked my mother and her friend how to lose weight, at which point they laughed (kindly) and told me I shouldn't be worrying about it at my age.
Naturally I ignored the shit out of that, and became obsessed. I didn't really do anything to try and change it, but comparing myself to others became nothing short of addictive; my friends were thinner, prettier, healthier. I would stare discreetly - discreetly for a kid, which I now realise was probably obvious as fuck - at them when they were running around, in shorts, whatever, just seeing how different they looked to me.
Got worse as I got older. I could never stop comparing, and at 12 I started the long fall into stop-and-start bulimia. That went on until I was about 22 (alongside laxatives), but with no consistency I can't really say it made much of a difference. Thank god.
At 16, I finally did something about it. I took up tap dancing, and was - naturally, with my personality - obsessive about it. I'd ignore my girlfriend of the time and just dance, using the spare studios whenever there was space. I lost some weight, was genuinely gorgeous - because despite being a UK size 14 even with the weight loss, my face was slim and pretty and my body has always been in great proportions. I wish I'd seen it back then, rather than continuously still comparing myself to others and loathing myself.
I moved schools for sixth form, got into another relationship and got lazy. Stopped dancing, ate a shit ton, and steadily gained weight. That never really changed. In 2014 (at 25) I was diagnosed with Bipolar and BPD and had a breakdown - I didn't go out, ate and ate and then starved myself, then ate and ate. Cut off all of my hair. Tried to kill myself. Ended up in hospital. Continued my breakdown, just in a quieter way.
Ah, memories.
Eventually I moved back in with my parents, and in 2016 I met someone new and started losing weight. Was eating less, walking more, got a new job and things started looking up - I felt GREAT! I'd got up to 20st (280 pounds) whilst during my breakdown phase, and got down to about 16st (224) whilst back at home. I finally felt good about myself, and life was on a good path.
Unfortunately, my relationship ended up being an emotionally abusive one and I ended up wrecked and unhappy - but, hey, whatever. I had some time with myself, maintained my weight.
Met someone new. Was happy. So I ate. XD
Now I'm at a weight I'm not happy with - not quite as severe my highest, but still not good - and I need to sort this shit out. I'm 30, my body is not as forgiving and I want to feel beautiful again. I'm counting calories, and I thought I'd been doing well, but fuck me if I haven't somehow gained a little of the 8 pounds I'd lost already!
So, I need to lock it down. Need to do it. Need to show myself I can do it. And I need to know I've put this somewhere that I can be held accountable.
My gorgeous boyfriend is also losing weight, so I'm not doing this alone. I guess I'll catch up with you soon, Reddit, and let you know how I'm doing, but just... wish me well, even silently. Because I feel like I owe it to my inconsistent, ridiculous self to actually achieve this.
[link] [comments]
from loseit - Lose the Fat https://ift.tt/2GjQWSN
No comments:
Post a Comment